


Abso-Lati

by MAVEfm



Series: Parallax; or, the Star Trek au no one else will write [2]
Category: Panic! at the Disco, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Aliens, Birthday Party, Fights, Gen, Homesickness, M/M, Starfleet Academy, the relationships are only hinted at
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-14 01:50:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12997215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MAVEfm/pseuds/MAVEfm
Summary: “I was hoping to speak with you on your report?”Dont read this haha“I turned it in,” Jon said as Ryan coughed quietly, Patrick patted his back.“Yes, I reviewed it myself,” Spock glanced at the two humans, “Would you mind taking a walk with me?”





	Abso-Lati

  


Abso-Lati

  


“It’s always belly buttons with you humans!”

 

Brendon let out a bark of laughter, falling onto his side to giggle.

 

“I’m serious!” Jon spread his arms wide, laughing, “I’m an alien, born on a planet that lives in constant night, I have sensory capabilities past anything, if I focused I could tell you the force of gravity on us right now!” Ryan giggled, trying to breath steady, “And this… This clown college dropout-!” Brendon gasped, smiling, “-Stops me, we have a nice conversation, ‘Oh where are you from? Oh, Abso-L’ati! Cool! _Do you have a belly button?’”_

 

Spencer laughed again, loud and echoing through Ryan and Brendon’s dorm.

 

Jon smiled, the smoke making him light, his ‘feathers’ (as Ryan erroneously referred to them; the actual name being something impossible for humans to pronounce), rippled and lazily calculated air density with a meandering buzz at the back of his mind.

 

Brendon rolled around, blushing lavender and clicking his voice, Jon had asked him once if it was like echolocation; to which Brendon responded: “If that’s like a way to broadcast and sense emotion, yeah!”

 

“He just-” Brendon coughed, “He just asked!?”

 

“God, he’s an idiot!” Jon let out a garbled La’ti curse at the back of his throat, “And he’s in _science!”_

 

It was a Saturday, Jon’s favorite Earth Day.

 

Brendon had finally received a message back from Pavel Chekov, Ryan and Jon were gonna smoke anyway, so now the weed was celebratory.

 

Jon’s favorite Earth drug.

 

“What do I even say?” Jon asked, “Why are humans obsessed with my chest?”

 

“Not your chest,” Spencer barked out a laugh, “Loser, you’re in Sciences too.”

 

“What!” Jon snapped, good-naturedly.

 

Brendon pointed lazily, “It’s not on your chest,” He poked Jon’s lower stomach, “It’s right here.”

 

“Same thing!”  Jon batted his hand away, affectionate, “They’re strictly human and Vulcan-”

 

 _“Jesus,”_ Spencer covered his face, “Brendon has one too!”

 

“Don’t assume, what the _hell_ , Jon,” Ryan grinned.

 

 _“Brendon,”_ Jon began, with Brendon snorting, his starry eyes crinkling and his cheeks flushing even more purple, “Is half nebula, formed in a star nursery, he can do what he wants.” Brendon clicked joyfully and Jon could feel the vibrations they sent out, like a sonar, sometimes overpowering his actual voice and speaking the language of his mother. It reminded Jon somewhat, of the second star cycle on his home planet, when underground wildlife came to the surface, clicking to see.

 

“Aliens only,” Brendon said, pushing away Spencer’s hand as he reached toward the bed, for a moment he grabbed Spencer’s wrist and waved it around. Spencer flushed and Jon smiled. “Cool Dudes Club.”

 

“Pete and I patented that already,” Ryan said, closing his eyes and drifting away through smoke, “For our group in Mech.”

 

Spencer stared blankly at Brendon and ran his hand through Ryan’s hair, “How’s the project going?”

 

“Too good,” Ryan popped his eyes back open to stare directly at Jon, “So good I think we’re gonna fail.”

 

“No way, Pete’s real good with your subject,” Brendon smiled slowly, “He’s got an _eye_ on things.”

 

“Son of a bitch,” Ryan whispered, “He has an eye on _everything-_ ”

 

“Goddamnit,” Jon said, voice steady and sarcastic, “Pass the blunt asshole,” He shoved his hand at Ryan and took a drag, “It’s a fucking conspiracy, out of all the questions-” Brendon was laughing too hard to make sound, just repeating: “Oh my- Oh-” and trying to breath.

 

Ryan looked like he was gliding on air as he touched Jon’s arm, lightly brushing his fingers over his skin his mouth hanging open and breathing in smoke. Jon blinked sleepily as he gazed down at Ryan’s thin fingers.

 

It’s Monday and Jon understands why humans hate it.

 

Reality was back to punch them in the face, and Jon couldn’t get high in class.

 

“Have you considered any other possible angles from which to approach?”

 

Jon sighed heavily, giving a garbled swear in the Vulcan’s direction, “Mr. Spock, there are too many, and I am so tired.”

 

Mr. Spock, Science Division’s _most_ stuck up TA, frowned.

 

The assignment, focusing mainly on plant matter, had been driving Jon up the wall since last week.

 

“I understand you are much more suited to Chemistry than Biology,” Spock offered, Jon blinked in return, “Perhaps you aren’t expanding the meaning of Chemistry far enough-”

 

“Are you trying to get me to apply this to my _much easier_ Div, for chemical compounds and xenobiology-which makes way more sense than some purple plant from Sangaro Four by the way-to this?” Jon asked, exasperated.

 

“This purple plant,” Mr. Spock tsked, “Has helped map the Sangaro for the last-”

 

“I have never been, Mr. Spock,” Jon, said, adjusting a few instruments and looking away, “Usually when someone is frustrated and complaining, they want help, or to be left _alone.”_

 

Spock folded his hands behind his back, “I understand you have some harsh feelings towards me, but is there any other reason you might be struggling?”

 

“Same reason as I told you before,” Jon sat down on the stool at his table, “I’m doing science for sentient beings, not flowers-And before! You say that plant life has limitless connections to understanding sentient organic life- I know, doesn’t mean I can’t be frustrated about it.”

 

Spock watched him for a moment, then turned to leave him to his frustrated silence.

 

“You’re grumpy,” Brendon said, catching up to him outside on the green.

 

“How can you tell?” Jon bumped his shoulder and Brendon smiled.

 

“You know why,” He clicked, “What’s up?”

 

“Science Div,” Jon breathed in, “Hard assignment, or just boring I guess.”

 

“TA still bothering you?”

 

“He knows I think he’s annoying,” Jon winced, “Which really doesn’t help my cause…”

 

“Yeah,” Brendon laughed, “I’ll help you study?”

 

“Nah, it’s in class stuff,” He glanced sideways at Brendon, “Hey… What system did you come from?”

 

“Outside Sangaro, why?”

 

Jon smiled in spite of himself, “Maybe you can help a little…” Brendon smiled wide, nodding.

 

Wednesday, and Jon can hear the air shift before he sees the Vulcan.

 

“Mr. Walker,” Spock brushes close and Ryan practically lets his lunch fall from his mouth in surprise. “Mr. Ross,” Spock nods at him, “I’ve been keeping up with your project with the Araneaith, Peter? Quite impressive.”

 

Ryan choked and the golden-eyed Patrick Stump snorted, “How are you this morning, Spock?”

 

“Quite well, thank you Patrick.”

 

Jon seethed, “Great, what’s up?”

 

“I was hoping to speak with you on your report?”

 

“I turned it in,” Jon said as Ryan coughed quietly, Patrick patted his back.

 

“Yes, I reviewed it myself,” Spock glanced at the two humans, “Would you mind taking a walk with me?”

 

“Yes-” Jon was slapped on the arm by Ryan, his glare saying: _Don’t be rude, Birdbrain!_

 

“But, sure,” Jon glared back, “Let’s walk.”

 

Spock led him through the double doors of the Mess and Jon stuffed his hands in the pockets of his uniform.

 

“I am referring to your sudden jump in score,” Spock paused next to a trophy case, Jon could see his uncle’s award on the top shelf for making first place in an old contest for a Mech competition. Ryan had gone insane when he had seen it: _“Your uncle is Cyanoci Walker?!”_

 

It brought Jon some comfort, standing hunched in front of Spock and his glaring expression, having the image of Ryan grabbing his jacket, his eyes wide and sparkling.

 

That, and a wave of some empty feeling Jon couldn’t identify.

 

“I studied,” Jon shrugged, looking away from the smiling picture of Uncle C.

 

“It seemed quite sudden, based on the frustration you displayed-”

 

“So I can’t do well?” Jon asked, “Because I was… You think I cheated? On a _Review_ assignment?!”

 

“I am simply asking-”

 

Jon swore in La’ti at the front of his mouth, behind his teeth because he wanted Spock to know it was for him. “Just because I don’t _like_ you is not enough to-”

 

“Your problems with me have nothing to do with-”

 

“God, ask Brendon Urie,” Jon looked away to his Uncle C, “He’s a Cumulo from the Sangaro area, which makes more sense-more _logical_ sense- than me cheating.”

 

“I was not aware of any Cumulonimbus’ presence, but I will ask,” Spock frowned, a slight wrinkle near his eyebrows, “I was callous, I know you are a dedicated student, I would not accuse you of cheating, I was more confused at how you had gotten a few answers, as they were details not readily available within the parameters of research.”

 

Jon crossed his arms and read the air, lunch was almost over, the shifting minute currents from the Mess told him that. It felt like.. Anticipation, like Spencer before any dissection unit. “Brendon talks a lot,” He said, finally, “About home, you know how it is.”

 

Spock nodded, maybe even a Vulcan knew what that felt like.

 

“Again I apologize, I had no intention of any sort of accusations…” He paused, “Perhaps we could speak on a different issue, some other time, on our disagreement.”

 

Jon scoffed, “Maybe I’m just not your biggest fan, Spock, not everybody has to like you.”

 

“I have no problem with being liked or disliked,” Spock dismissed him, “It’s a matter of respect.”

 

“Some other time,” Jon said, turning to look at his uncle’s award more closely, and spied Ryan out of the corner of his eye, “You have classes to boss around.”

 

Cumulonimbus run _fast_.

 

Maybe it was because they were part cloud or something, but Jon couldn’t help but giggle at the group of Xenolinguistics students rush after Brendon on the green, determined out of their minds to get a recorder close to measure speech patterns and wave lengths. It was more of a joke than anything, to sprint after him like a swarm of bees, Brendon was so nice he would talk in clicks and hums for every single one of them. But when they crowded, he jumped and led them on a chase.

 

“We get cooped up anyway,” A girl had sat down beside him, breathing heavily but smiling, “Not much running around in Xenolinguistics.”

 

“They’ll never catch him, they know that right?” Jon smiled as Brendon faked right and jumped over a study group from Medical, a few girls screeched and laughed. Brendon almost seemed to float when he jumped, the coral like fins on his skin wisping like the emissions he’d been formed in.

 

“Oh, yeah,” She chuckled, “Not with straight on running, no way.”

 

“Jon Walker,” Jon held his hand out for her to shake and she took it, wiping sweat from her brow.

 

“Nyota,” She unbuttoned her uniform to cool off, leaving her in just a band t-shirt and her skirt, “Uhura.”  


“Hey, yeah!” Jon pointed at her, remembering, “You caught me for the first Wave Length project right?”

 

“Abso-Lati!” She pointed back, “Yes! That’s why you were so familiar! La’ti has got to be one of the hardest I’ve done, not counting Cumulo, but La’ti is like trying to gargle rocks for me.” Jon nodded.

 

“I’ve heard it’s been called a throat shredder, yeah,” He nodded, grinning.

 

“Would you mind helping me out again?” She asked suddenly, “I’m taking an added class on top of this, I’d love to study it more in depth for the project.”

 

“What about Brendon?” Jon nodded toward the group of students, who Brendon had finally let catch up, they had dropped to their knees and fell to the ground to get their breath back as he hummed a few sentences into their recording devices.

 

“I’ll get him later,” Uhura waved her hand, “His language doesn’t really have many sounds that humans can mimic anyway, so it’ll be hard to map.”

 

“Save the worst for last… Definitely the best way to go.”

 

“Oh, shut up I’m so lazy,” She slapped his arm, “But you gotta tell me about La’ti, none of the databases are very thorough, is it an extra muscle or structure in your throat?”

 

Jon stood to gather his things along with her, offering to carry her uniform jacket, “Are you gonna go into history of language too?”

 

“Some yeah, but it’s not required,” She stuffed a writing pad into her pack, but stood up straight, “But I’m totally ready to listen if you want to tell me!”

 

Jon felt like a third wheel only a few hours later.

 

Off campus on a Friday? Great.

 

Off campus on a Friday with Spencer and Brendon? Not ideal for conversation.

 

Not with Spencer making moon eyes.

 

Brendon was blind, even with eyes that looked like galaxies.

 

It reminded Jon of Ryan whenever they smoked up.

 

But Pete was there, his dozens of red irised eyes seeing everything, Jon wondered what it was like to have that many eyes, to see from twelve different angles at once. “It varies all the time,” Pete had answered his questions once, at the beginning of their first year, “Like, I have twelve sets, but my dad? He has six, and my mom has twenty-two! They go up her forehead, and my aunt is just two-eyed, which is pretty rare, now I come here and Bam! Two-eyes everywhere, it’s pretty cool.”

 

Jon had smiled.

 

“God what a-” Pete muttered something in his language that Jon translated into La’ti automatically, but it was nonsensical, Araneaith had no concept of syllables and stressed vowels, with was how La’ti created words.

 

So Jon was a little confused.

 

“Why are you calling Brendon a…” Jon searched for the word in English, “A… A… I don’t know, an ironing board? That’s not close enough,” He frowned.

 

“What?” Pete’s fourth set of eyes rolled, “No I called him a… Oh yeah, you’re right.”

 

“Say it in English or something La’ti can’t translate Araneaith without a database of tone.”

 

“Oh I was just calling him a blind idiot,” Pete shrugged, “It’s more specific in Areaneaith, but whatever, that’s the gist.”

 

Jon snuck a glance at his friends, Spencer held Brendon’s shopping bags for him, blushing to his ears. Brendon was talking, as he was always doing, about something that Jon could only imagine he had talked about a thousand times before.

 

“Yeah, probably…” Jon picked up a few small trinkets, cheap trade items from outer rim colonies., “Brendon really helped him through that rough patch, though, just studied with him and kept him from doing anything really stupid.”

 

“Hm,” Pete frowned at a t-shirt on the rack, “Hey, is Brendon still going into Ship Welfare?”

 

“He’s taking the intro course now,” Jon answered, “He’s more focused on the Command classes though, Chekov and him have been going back and forth.”

 

“That’s really cool, I’d love to talk to that guy, Brendon must be a genius.”

 

“We keep telling him that,” Jon smiled, “Try and get him to believe it though.”

 

“Patrick’s the same way,” Pete nodded. Jon glanced at his watch.

 

“Okay…” Uhura set up a few recording devices and readied a pencil and a notebook in her lap, “Ready?” Jon smiled.

 

“I just have to sit and talk right?” He asked, “I can do that.”

 

“Right, right, I’m nervous,” Uhura waved her hand.

 

“What? Come on,” Jon tsked.

 

“I am! The Professor in this class is such a hardass,” Uhura told him, “They’re expecting a lot, I don’t want to disappoint them.”

 

“You won’t,” Jon shook his head, “Okay, just go ahead, ask me anything.”

 

“Okay… Got it, just… say your name, planet, language, and that you’re here for the xenolinguistics analysis of root, point of origin, and structure project headed by Nyota Uhura.”

 

“In English or La’ti?”

 

“Both would be nice,” She smiled and pointed to the closest device, “This will capture normal speech, like anything, and this one-” She pointed at the one next to it, “-Gets sound waves, and this one-” She pointed to the one behind her, “-Records frequency not audible to human ears, along with a database of tone that connects to a dictionary, finding root words and already sourced traces in a language… it’s really cool.” She blushed, excited.

 

“Cool…” Jon cleared his throat, and turned to the first recorder, “My name is Jonathan Walker, I am an Absos from Abso-Lati, I speak fluent La’ti, and I am here for The Xenolinguistics Analysis of Roots, Origin, and Structure by Nyota Uhura and she is gonna get an A.”

 

“Oh my god,” Uhura groaned, “Now in La’ti, please, and don’t embarrass me.”

 

Jon smiled and leaned back in, his vocal chords shifting and opening as he began the same sentence in La’ti, his feathers shifting. The first syllable triggered the other machinery, which lit up as they recognized the alien language, a screen behind Uhura went through a fast set of screens as it mapped his base speech pattern and connected it to a planet and point of origin.

 

Jon’s jaw vibrated and Uhura jotted down a few notes.

 

He hummed from the back of his throat and bent his tongue, remembering to speak normally and not stress anything about clear and understandable speech, “The machine is smart, you don’t have to talk to it like a little kid or anything.”

 

“Now can you go through this simple phrases sheet for me?” Uhura handed him a sheet of paper, “It’s boring but a lot of basic sounds are mapped with these, you can use them with pretty much every language, even Cumulo.”

 

“This word doesn’t really exist,” Jon pointed and Uhura waved her hand.

 

“Just work around it.”

 

“Okay…” Jon began again, humming low and repeating simple phrases like: “I have to find my vehicle.” And: “Did you remember to go to the store?”

 

The screen behind Uhura ran through the measurements again, finding Abso-Lati faster than before.

 

This time, it went through images, Jon watched out of the corner of his eye as a few pictures of Abso-Lati culture were cycled through and put into a folder and he smiled, an empty feeling settled in his chest, like it had in front of Cyanoci in the trophy case.

 

Then, a picture of his planet was frozen on screen.

 

A dark sphere, colored in purples and blues, covered in shadow. Jon faltered, then continued.

 

“Can you repeat that one?” Uhura stopped him.

 

“Uh, yeah,” Jon shifted in his seat, “Sure.”

 

Ryan was his first friend from Earth, the first to frown at him when he joined their small group for dinner.

 

“What’s up?”

 

Jon thought back to the first time he had been asked that, still speaking English with that La-ti accent that made his throat creak. _“I don’t understand.”_ He had said, paying close attention to the hum in the back of his head as they measured upward distance and air currents.

 

“Did a linguistics thing with Nyota,” He said, maneuvering into the seat next to Brendon, “You?”

 

Ryan blinked and Spencer launched into a tale of the dissection unit they had started, “It’s so much cooler than back on Earth, just refrigerated cadavers kept in formaldehyde, which is also kinda cool but _here it’s-”_

 

Spencer was cut off by Brendon, “Yuck, yuck, dude, yuck.”

 

 _“Why is it yuck?”_ Spencer asked, almost scandalized, _“Dude_ , come on, it’s not like we have Cumulo bodies-”

 

“‘Cause you can’t cut Cumulo bodies open,” Jon said, “They have a completely different form of matter, inorganic, you _could_ cut Brendon open-” “Hey!” “-But it would have to be right after he dies, half-human or not, Cumulo don’t have remains, they’re assimilated into-”

 

“I _know_ my own biology thank you very much,” Brendon looked purple around the coral like tendrils on his skin, but otherwise defiant, “You can’t cut me open _at all_ , thanks, my matter, or whatever it is, will find it’s way back to my nursery no matter how far away I am and my brothers and sisters will have a ceremony… Way cooler than your little Earth parties where you dress in black.”

 

“A funeral?” Ryan snorted, “That’s not a party.”

 

Jon frowned but laughed, wondering how the subject of Brendon’s death was so fascinating.

 

“What about on Abso-La’ti?” Spencer turned suddenly, Jon jumped.

 

“Well, you can cut me open, I just don’t want you too.”

 

“No like, do you have funerals or something else?”

 

Jon’s stomach twisted and his brow knit together, “I’m not supposed to say,” He shrugged, and Spencer waved his hands, suddenly guilty.

 

“Shit! I just forgot,” Spencer looked like he’d been drenched in cold lake water, “Jon I-”

 

“Dude,” Jon smiled, “Honest mistake, you do that every time, I just can’t talk about ceremonies, it’s against Abso culture and stuff, don’t freak.”

 

“I always forget,” Spencer batted away Brendon, who was shaking his finger jokingly at him, “I’m the worst best friend ever.”

 

“Hey!” Jon jumped, a week later, when Brendon ambushed him outside of class, “Jon!”

 

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Jon bent to pick up a few loose papers.

 

“Are you trying to leave me out of everything?” Brendon asked, pushing books back into Jon’s arms from where they were teetering out of his grip.

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“I have to hear about your _birthday,_ ” Brendon gave him a light push, “From Andy! Not even from the core four! Come on!”

 

“You didn’t ask!” Jon gave him a ridiculous smile.

 

“It’s only a few weeks away too,” Brendon continued, “Are you gonna plan a party? I can help-”

 

“No way, I just go out with Spencer and Ryan…” Jon bumped Brendon’s shoulder, “Now you.”

 

“Boring, but whatever,” Brendon rolled his eyes, “You don’t even get balloons?”

 

“Well if you want to bring balloons…”

 

“Can I invite Pete?” Brendon asked, “And Dallon? Or-”  


“Just invite the whole school, B, why not?”

 

“Do you think they’d come?”

 

“No,” Jon laughed, “But yeah, invite a couple friends, It’s just going out for drinks, nothing huge, I was thinking of asking Nyota when the day gets close.”

 

“Ooooh,” Brendon smiled, “Nyota…”

 

“Yeah, Brendon, Nyota Uhura,” Jon turned down the hall to the Science Lab, “Who will beat me up if I made a move like that, she’s awesome though, I’ve never even heard of half the languages she can speak-”

 

Brendon frowned at him when he stopped, “What?”

 

“Whatever,” Jon nodded at the door to the Lab, “It’s Spock, I’m meeting Nyota in there,” Brendon grabbed his arm.

 

“He talked to me a few weeks ago,” He said, “He’s weird, but who cares?”

 

“Yeah, whatever,” Jon kept walking, letting Brendon link his arm through his, he could sense the way the air distorted around Brendon, responding to his inorganic biology-

 

“Hi Spock!” Brendon waved as they went through the door, and Jon shut his eyes.

 

Spock had been speaking to Nyota when they had arrived, but he straightened, surprised by their arrival.

 

“Mr. Urie,” He nodded, “Walker, I have to tell you this lab is closed for Miss Uhura to continue her research-”

 

“That’s why they’re here Spock,” Nyota smiled, “Jon! You want to get started?”

 

“Can I do stuff?” Brendon detached himself from Jon, “I could teach you how to say bad words in Cumulo.”

 

“Be my guest,” Nyota pulled another stool from another table, then leaned over to Spock, “I’ll see you later okay?”

 

Spock frowned minutely.

 

“Okay?” Nyota repeated as Jon set down his things on the table, avoiding looking at Spock out of habit.

 

“Yes,” Spock finally concluded, “All of our plans are in order.”

 

She smiled, and when Jon glanced back up, she was pecking him on the cheek.

 

Spock left, not sparing Jon a glance.

 

“Oh, I didn’t know you were dating,” Jon sent Brendon a stare that read: _help!_

 

Brendon shrugged.

 

“You guys know each other?” Nyota asked.

 

 _“Oh!”_ Brendon laughed, “Jon _ha-_ ”

 

“He’s a TA in one of my classes,” Jon glared at Brendon, “We aren’t on the best of terms.”

 

Nyota nodded sympathetically, “He’s a great guy, I know he can be…”

 

“Abrasive?” Jon asked, “An ass?”

 

“Yeah,” She laughed, “He probably doesn’t even know, just tell him what he did wrong.”

 

Jon shook his head, “It happened way too long ago for me to bring it up, it would be stupid.”

 

“Well,” Nyota began setting up equipment, “If it’s still bothering you now, it can’t be stupid, he’ll listen, take it from me, I’m dating him, arguments are infuriating with him but we get past it… Hand me that?”

 

“Oh, sure,” Jon reached across the table for an instrument.

 

“What did he do, anyway?” Brendon asked later at dinner. Ryan and Spencer both had additional classes and wouldn’t appear until later.

 

“He… I guess embarrassed me?” Jon wasn’t sure how to explain it, “Put me on the spot in the middle of class, invaded privacy, kinda just… acted like I was an idiot, brushed off my species and now he acts like it never happened, like Vulcans can’t be xenophobic or assholes just ‘cause they’re fact based.”

 

Brendon curled his lip and hummed something in his language, “What a loser.”

 

Jon nodded, “Honestly.”

 

“So you can come right?”

 

It was a few days later, Jon had his palms pressed together in a prayer, “I’m inviting Hayley and Laura-”

 

“Well I’m glad you’re not making me the only girl there,” Nyota laughed, “But yeah, of course I’ll come Jon, you don’t need to beg.”

 

“He begged me to come and I planned it in the first place,” Ryan said from behind him, Jon blushed at the sound of his voice.

 

“I’m always up for drinks, and the fact that it’s your birthday is even better.”

 

“Thank you Nyota,” Jon sighed in relief, “It’ll be fun, I promise.”

 

“I have no doubt,” She began to load her things back in a pack, “Could I… I mean I know you’re not on the best of terms…”

 

“I’m gonna answer for Jon,” Ryan patted Jon’s shoulder, “That’s gonna be a no.”

 

Nyota nodded, “I don’t mind, I won’t force you to be friends, see you at the party Jon.”

 

Jon watched her go with a soft smile.

 

“Birdboy have a crush?” Ryan set out a few holo-models of engines on the table.

 

Jon almost got whiplash, scratching at the place on his shoulder where Ryan had touched him, “That’s mean.”

 

“Oh right, sorry I forgot you’re the gayest bird in the galaxy,” Ryan gave him a rare grin, “Are you gonna help me with my physics or what?”

 

“You’re the gay bird, string bean,” Jon grumbled, “But yeah.”

 

“Can Andy come?” Joe asked, a day later, “Alcohol is poison to his species but he’s got this cool party trick, like he can make moving projections and stuff.”

 

“Duh, he can come!” Brendon jumped to his feet, “We’re the oxygen pals! No Air Friends-”

 

“Space Junk,” Jon chimed in and Brendon pushed him.

 

“How many people are coming?” William Beckett asked only a week later as they partnered up for a paper in Science Div, he was a thin kid, descended from a race of ice planet aliens Jon couldn’t pronounce the name of, and a few humans. “Seems like a bigger party than usual.”

 

“I have more friends than usual,” Jon shrugged, “I guess.”

 

“I’ll get you a badass present,” William lined up an instrument, “Are your folks sending anything?”

 

Jon tensed, “I think so, stuff from them arrives late though, hard to get mail out of our system.”

 

“It’s gonna be your first away from Abso right?”

 

“Um,” Jon frowned, “Yeah, but I’m fine.”

 

William smiled, “Didn’t say you were birdbrain.”

 

The tightness in his chest loosened as he hit William with his folder, paper flying.

 

Almost five days away from his birthday, Brendon kept his stuff away from Jon, “Don’t peek! I’m not letting you see your gift!”

 

“Something he’s been working on in his navigation class,” Ryan whispered in his ear and Jon almost didn’t pay attention when his lips were so close. “I think him and Chekov are best friends forever now.”

 

“Replacing us with Chekov?” Jon blinked away confusion and yelled at Brendon down the hall.

 

“Ryan Ross! You shut the hell up!” Brendon’s clicking voice echoed sharply in Jon’s ears and they giggled.

 

Then, as an almost revenge for being so happy, it happened again.

 

Jon could only remember being this embarrassed the first time it had happened, staring at Spock with an empty expression.

 

“Dude,” William said, glowering.

 

The experiment was easy, Jon could do it in his sleep, radiation, emission spectra, hyper speed and the effects on immediate density-

 

“We know Abso-La’ti have an easy way of measuring these,” Spock had gestured at him and Jon had nodded, “Could you tell us, Jon, how this is possible?”  


Jon had explained it, even shedding a feather just to show it off and letting the girl sitting next to him look at it under her scope.

 

And Spock did the same exact thing he had done last time.

 

Jon had the luxury of having already heard it, letting himself skip dialogue.

 

“This measurement isn’t the most accurate- Cannot be relied upon- There is a distinct lack of-”

 

Jon just let it happen until-

 

“Could you tell us how this ability might be used in connection with coming of age ceremonies celebrated within your culture?”

 

Jon blinked and William was glowering: “Dude.”

 

Spock kept talking, asking Jon to talk about it, he felt choked, like everyone was staring at him- “Jackass,” William spat, “Shut up.”

 

“Mr. Beckett that is-”

 

“Didn’t we do this like a year and a half ago? He’s not allowed to talk, or did you forget the last time you made him molt?”

 

Jon felt all the blood rush to his ears and watched another feather float to the floor.

 

He was in his dorm room, curled into a pile of blankets and staring up at the ceiling.

 

“I haven’t seen you molt since you had to give that speech for Xeno Relations and Ethics.”

 

Ryan stood in the doorway.

 

“He did it again,” Jon mumbled, red with shame, “The Vulcan.”

 

“The Vulcan needs to get his ears out of his ass,” Ryan said, haughty, “I hate seeing you like this, people need to learn to respect privacy.”

 

“It’s not my fault I get so nervous,” Jon closed his eyes when Ryan began to pick up his shed feathers, “I’ve had to keep secrets for my people since I was born, it doesn’t make sense.”

 

“Doesn’t have too,” Ryan said, “You’re just homesick… and Spock is just an ass.”

 

“I’m not homesick.”

 

“Can it, everyone gets homesick,” Ryan paused and Jon felt the bed dip under his weight when he sat down, “Even me, and Spencer, who can’t stand his parents any more than I can.”

 

“So why did the ass have to do it again?” Jon felt the tightness in his throat and the pressing feeling in his gut.

 

Ryan didn’t answer, instead he adjusted onto the bed to sit next to Jon, then slowly laid back, head resting close to Jon’s shoulder.

 

“‘Cause…he’s homesick too, for Vulcan, and your family has trophies and awards lining the halls and the Vulcan council or whatever demeans him because he’s half human,” Ryan breathed out a sigh that made Jon’s sensors tingle, “You’re better than him at a lot of things people call him the best at, and you don’t even care, you don’t show off, a bunch of reasons.”

 

They lay in silence for a while.

 

“Brendon wants to throttle him,” Jon could hear the smile in Ryan’s voice and Jon felt strangely jealous, “But says he won’t so he can go to your birthday party.”

 

“Shit,” Jon felt dread and elation at the same time, “I still have to go to that don’t I?”

 

“If you didn’t, we’d just be a bunch of Starfleet Academy assholes going out drinking.”

 

Jon laughed, pointing out that that was what they were anyway.

 

“I’m sitting him down and I swear to god he’s gonna listen to me,” Nyota was shaking her head, “What a dick move even for him, I thought he _knew_ your people’s traditions-”

 

“No, no, I’m over it,” Jon shook his head, “He’s just gonna get more salt from me anyway, you don’t have to break up for me-”

 

“He isn’t allowed to antagonize students, he’s a TA not a professor,” Nyota shot back, “From what you told me there was no point in even bringing it up, it wouldn’t even contribute to class discussion if you simply had to reverse a system to navigate the emission and radiation-”

 

“Nyota, you coming to my party is the best thing, honest,” Jon insisted, “You just have to be there, I don’t want you just starting arguments for me.”

 

Jon felt the weight drop from his shoulders when Nyota finally agreed.

 

“Can we sing? Humans sing when they celebrate birthday’s right?” Brendon had whiskey on his breath and was talking louder than usual and Jon kept leaning against him, over-affectionate with the fruity drink in hand that kept being filled.

 

A few people cheered, “It goes!” Patrick shouted, his eyes almost glowing, “It goes! For he’s a jolly good fellow-” It was less singing and more shouting, giving Jon hugs around his drink and trying not to spill their own.

 

“You’re… You’re so beautiful, you’re so beautiful,” Dallon, who had been invited by Brendon had green chlorophyll tears in his eyes, “I grew this for you it grows these red berries Brendon told me birds eat.” Jon wondered how a tree had gotten drunk.

 

“Fuck! We handing out presents?” Gabe asked, a scaly alien that William had invited, “Bitch, I have gifts for the birthday boy… Shit wait…”

 

Jon was shoved into the middle of the bar and had wrapped boxes and bags shoved at him, the bartender giving him another glass of this strawberry thing that Jon thought would make him go blind.

 

Nyota, somehow sober and laughing into her bourbon, handed him a box of Earth colognes and Spencer, tipsy, threw candy at him.

 

“And another thing,” He put a finger to Jon’s lips, “This is a thing, because I love you, I made something with Brendon and Ryan,  they helped, bare minimum, I did all the work-”

 

“Fuck off,” Ryan guffawed and put a small device on the table, “Spencer did the math, Brendon did the navigation and made it pretty… I made it work.”

 

The party calmed down slightly and Jon looked down at the device.

 

“Turn it on,” Brendon stage whispered.

 

Jon smiled and nodded, drunk and happy.

 

A grid made of light shined out for a second when Jon pressed the blue button on the device then as it filled the room, it disappeared. After a second, stars and nebulas flickered into existence, slightly see through as holograms.

 

“That's fucking…” Jon gaped, “It's beautiful.”

 

“That's not all,” Brendon clicked and reached out with two fingers at the nearest star and two white dots appeared at the end of his fingers. Then, he swung his arm and sent the universe spinning in a whirlwind of purple and blue galaxies. Jon felt dizzy until Brendon froze the image. He pointed fondly at peach colored star nursery, “My family is right there, my emission cloud is right there…” His already starry eyes sparkled.

 

“But that's not really what we wanted you to see…” Spencer did the same thing,this time tapping twice and bringing up a keyboard.

 

The stars zoomed past again and a few of Jon laughed as Laura Jane grabbed drunkenly at an asteroid belt floating by.

 

The universe flew by faster and faster and then-

 

Hard stop to gaze at a planet cloaked in darkness.

 

Jon could only stare for a moment, at the deep blue of Abso as it rotated lazily on its tilted axis.

 

He could almost make out every detail, and Ryan grabbed his hand, showing him how to place his fingers and zooming in,slowly.

 

The triplet moons of Abso spun in front of his eyes, “Holy shit, Ryan.”

 

He could feel the tightness in his chest release as he pulled in closer and closer to the planet, feeling Ryan’s hands settle on his shoulders. He navigated to his home region, the peninsula where he had grown up.

 

“Your parents sent a few things, so we put them in,” Brendon said softly.

 

A glowing message, written in glowing ink, probably from his mom had been programmed in where his neighborhood would have been: Love you, miss you.

 

Jon coughed back tears as the party clapped and cheered, Jon grabbed at Ryan and Spencer, and Brendon, “Fuck I can't even come close to this for your birthday.”

 

“Are we group hugging now?” Gabe reached for William and Patrick.

 

Then it was Monday, Jon’s new favorite day, through a hangover and haywire sensors telling him the air pressure near the ceiling.

 

The device, Ryan had called it The Old Crow I, “That's the patent name, we're all gonna be on the contract,” was in his pocket.

 

It was early in the morning, and Jon felt giddy, his feet bouncing along with his pounding headache.

 

And he felt light, his feathers had grown back full and bright, fluffing out and reading the air and glowing even in the daytime.

 

He was in the Science Wing at 5 AM.

 

And the only other soul around would be-

 

“Mr. Spock.”

 

The Vulcan turned to face him in surprise.

 

“Mr. Walker-”

 

“Shut up.”

 

He wished Ryan was here, or Spencer, or Brendon.

 

He could feel Ryan said hands still pressing into his shoulders and he remembered the epiphany he had had last night as they had all huddled in Ryan and Brendon’s dorm, drunk and crowding two in a bed.

 

Ryan had smiled at him when Jon blinked awake in the middle of the night.

 

“I had the best night of my life last night,” Jon stepped forward, “Debauchery, as Ryan would say, Nyota was there and she's way too cool, so she really didn't need to come.”

 

Spock crossed his arms behind his back. Icy confusion and blank eyes, “You had that same expression the last time it happened, but I’m hungover and I had this boxed wine in Hayley’s dorm before I came here so I don’t care.”

 

“Mr. Walker, I can report to the Headmaster-”

 

Jon set the Old Crow I down on the professor’s desk, “You’re not gonna make me molt, and you were the one that wanted to make things right between us and then you pulled that other shit and I don’t know if I believe you or if you just want everyone to call you sir again instead of the jerk that made me cry a few days ago.”

 

Spock remained silent.

 

“You have no right,” John pointed at him, “To talk to me like that, or anyone, jackass-” He hit the button and the Old Crow turned on, automatically calibrating to show Abso. Jon smiled when the Vulcan stumbled back.

 

“I don’t know if it was because you just forgot, or you hate me just as much as I hate you, but you can’t… You can’t talk about my planet’s ceremonies, or ask me to talk about them, it’s against everything I believe in, everything I was taught, Abso keeps secrets because secrets are sacred and they’re meant to be experienced for yourself- I met the Vulcan ambassadors for Abso when I was barely getting these in-” He motioned to his feathers, “-And they were so respectful and I meet you and the first year I walked into this class and watched you make an ass of yourself when you talked down about my species abilities and our culture and then I had the most amazing time, beating you at your own game, challenging me to protostar and emissions tests, hydrostatic equilibrium is my _fucking_ game, you pointy eared bastard.”

 

He was breathing heavy and Spock seemed shorter than he had two minutes ago so Jon counted that as a win.

 

“So this planet?” He pointed at the, frankly beautiful, orb floating beside him, “It’s off limits, I’m banning you right now, until you get your head outta your ass, learn about it, respect it like it’s your father and get it through your head that I’m better than you.”

 

Spock breathed in, blinked, then nodded.

 

“I’m sorry, Jon.”

 

Jon blinked, “What?”

 

“I apologize,” Spock said, “For everything, I crossed a line, we both did, but I started it, and I’m sorry.”

 

“You’re just saying that.”

 

“No, I mean it,” Spock dipped his head, “It’s only right that you told me off for it, you’re very talented Jon, and highly skilled at a number of things that I am still improving in, I saw that in our first class today and my emotions had gotten the better of me, and I put you in a place of shame and anxiety, and I’m sorry.”

 

Jon stared, “You… What?”

 

Spock tilted his head, “I am just an assistant, sometimes left in charge of a class and I set upon with my own lessons, and I have no excuse for my behavior that preceded your birthday, Abso-La’ti is a wonderful planet and species, there are very few cultures that can live completely in the dark, I admire your perseverance and your ability to separate yourself emotionally from the, and to use your own phrase, the jackass, that I was to you.”

 

He held out his hand and Jon stared at it down his nose.

 

“I would like to start again, with the respect I should have given you.”

 

Spock let his hand hover in the air, looking up at Jon with dark eyes and a low brow.

 

Jon scratched the back of his head and tasted the white wine on his breath, wishing he had brushed his teeth.

 

They shook hands.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I will single handedly make this crossover a thing, join or die


End file.
